On My Own
by Talon McGreggor
Summary: Hermione wandered the halls and ends up in someone's bed! But not like that! He finds out and now there's a mystery game...Chp 4 up.
1. On My Own

I refuse to give you much commentary of any kind before the story. All I will say is that I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with Harry Potter. `Talon.

Desolate. She felt desolate. Lost. Alone. Which was ridiculous. All her friends awaited her in the common room. Maybe it was because she was female. Harry and Ron didn't have her point of view. They didn't have the maternal instincts of females…

The war against Voldemort was drawing to a climax. Half the Hogwarts staff had left after the winter holidays to help the Ministry. Dumbledore would not leave. McGonagall would not leave his side. But Flitwick was gone. So were Sinistra, Sprout, Hagrid, as strange as that may seem, and Snape.

_Snape…_

School days were not the same. Classrooms were so empty. She missed her professors. Half the light of Hogwarts had left. A quick intake of breath--they may not return.

But Hermione couldn't think of that. She must not. It was too…depressing? Why should she care? she figured. The changing of Defense Against the Dark Arts professors had hardened everyone against just this. 

No matter. The emptiness of the school and classrooms haunted her everyday. And wouldn't leave. During the days she studied extra hard. She had to; she couldn't during nights. Her nights were taken up by wandering the halls. It was like she was looking for something. Maybe for the cause of all the emptiness, and when she found it, she would kill it and everything would be back to normal.

Her thoughts seemed to jump in her head-- those were definitely no longer organized. What bothered her most, if she were honest, was the Potions room. It was colder without Snape. Which would be funny to every other student. They would laugh outright at her without any regard for her feelings. It wasn't funny to her.

Over the years, they'd grown to expect the Potions Master's sarcastic jeers and cutting remarks while they labored over steaming cauldrons. The substitute gave them an assignment and sat back at the desk. She guessed they were watching for any sign of a lethal concoction, but they weren't doing much more than that. 

The high windows in the hall filtered the moonlight. It made pretty patterns on the stone. Even the moon was cold. The light was cold. Absentmindedly she touched the window. That was cold too. 

A burst of wind sounded over the rolling lawn. Hermione' s head snapped back to the hallway. In front of her a tall man walked briskly over the stones. His heels sounded smartly against the floor. In a swirl of black cloak and flash of lank hair, he was gone. As quickly as he'd come. Fog seemed to clog her brain.

Her legs couldn't support her weight. She slid down the rough wall. There'd be scratches in the morning. Her knees came into her chest, her head to her knees. So lost….and cold…

The Potions room.

The sub. 

No cutting remarks.

No black eyes.

Or terrifying gazes.

Vanilla scent, however faint.

Air of anticipation.

Drive to prove her worth.

Without him, she was nothing because she was something. She was always something to everyone. And so she was nothing but what they thought of her. But around him, she was worth more because he didn't stereotype. 

Well he did.

But not like them.

The tears wouldn't halt in their course down her cheeks.

He wouldn't be thinking of her. Why would she of him? How stupid.

_Hermione, you're stupid. Get up. What a Gryffindor you are. _She rose slowly. Her back stung when her robes brushed against it. Oh well. She deserved it for such ludicrous thoughts. Her hand took away the tears from her face. The moon shone brightly on her pale visage. She was stronger than this!

She wouldn't be reduced to a sniveling ball at memories of being yelled at!

Her feet began to move again. Past the windows, down stairs, more halls, more stairs. Through doors. Her step echoed about her.

Coming out of her thoughts, she found herself in the Great Hall. The tables were gone. The candles that burned in the air had went with them. Light shone down onto the polished floor like silver sickles from the starry heavens above. The enchanted ceiling was in its glory tonight.

Out of habit her eyes went to where the staff table would be. 

He stared back at her.

_Severus…_

She didn't know when any of them would come back. Maybe she was distraught because they'd become like family to her in a world so foreign. She'd known no one. No one expected anything, except him. He was one of the strictest, but his opinion of you would not show. With the exception of contempt. She'd often felt the barb of that wire.

Hinges creaked. A door slammed. And she left the hall with its shimmering sky.

Taking a right, she continued her procession through the castle. All her nights were the same. Aimless wandering with only her thoughts for company. Every night too, nothing changed. When she went back to the common room, back to bed, the rooms were still empty, the castle still cold. Parts of her family remained missing. Part of her heart had gone with them.

There were places she'd not searched yet. Unwittingly her feet took her there. 

She did not shiver when the air got colder. She was descending. Farther and farther. The path was not unfamiliar. She stopped at the hard wooden door. It would be easy to open. The substitute did not put on the wards that _he _did. 

In three flicks of her wand, the door unlocked. She pushed. It opened. 

Her first sight of was the perpetually dark fireplace. It was never lit. It would be odd now if it were. Rows upon rows of tables made neat columns. One bench to a table. At the front sat a lone desk, larger than its table-like counterparts. She went to it. They could be alone together. She wondered vaguely if it missed him also.

She wouldn't sit in the chair. She had more respect than that. But each item on the surface met her fingertips. She brought a quill to her nose. A smile touched her lips. It smelled of vanilla too.

Her head began to swirl. Somewhere in her mind she chided herself for being so fanciful. He was a teacher; she was a student. She could always blame the feelings on the war, but deep inside her, at the core of what Hermione was, she knew everything was true.

If she thought back to this moment, she wouldn't know how she discovered the door in the dark, when she'd never noticed it when the room was lit by numerous torches. However it happened isn't what is important. Simply that it did. Deftly, her fingers found a large metal hinge. It was warmer than the room.

How odd.

Her hands went from the hinge to the handle. It would be locked, of course.

She put her weight against it. Slowly, ever so slowly, the large stone barrier slid in. Hermione slipped through after a foot was gained.

Every sense she possessed swam. Vanilla. Sandalwood. She walked farther in and fell to her knees. On the way down her ribs collided with something soft. Velvet. 

"Lumos." The only word spoken tonight.

The tip of her wand glowed warmly. 

_Oh my Lord in…_

She leaned forward on her knees, and hit against a bed covered in dark green velvet. She would have called it black, but the light reflected just so…

Pillows to her right. Black. Satin. Frizzy hair whipped her face as she took in everything. Black jacquard canopy. Holly-wood book shelves housed at least three hundred tomes. A black leather chaise on the other side of the room caught her fancy. It was enchanting…exotic. Finally, in the far corner was a large cauldron and cabinets that held countless ingredients. 

_His room._ No doubt. 

A warmth like honey and tea began to seep into her bones. Her senses stilled. She felt humbled--to be in his place. It was so private; she shouldn't be here. Oh, but how she must.

Hermione found herself collapsed on the bed. Her body shifted to the depression in the middle. Where he must lay many, many nights. Maybe he stayed up thinking too…

Fresh tears came and soiled the fine velvet. He would wonder what had happened when he came back. He would come back now. She was certain. The Gryffindor in her was tempted to tell him of her wanderings. Her despair. And how she was able to find courage and strength again. But she couldn't. No way in all the heavens. He would expel her for entering a professor's chambers unlawfully, without permission. She's also traversed the halls past the hours of curfew, broken into his classroom…

And even if she'd been allowed to go where ever she pleased, he would never understand. Never how she felt. Esepcially how he made her feel. She must always work for his respect. She smiled against the damp material. That was one reason she was glad she wasn't a Slytheirn. They seemed to gain his automatic respect.

No…she thought, so emotionally exhausted now…deep down, they haven't. In his room, curled up on his bed, Hermione thought her Potions professor the most human wizard in the world.

Sweet slumber claimed her in the room that night. In her temporary retreat from the cold castle, empty rooms, and lonely halls, she dreamed that he knew her. And she knew him. Dreamed that they knew the other's thoughts, and he understood what was happening to her. Even if she couldn't put a finger on it yet.

*`*`*

Please forgive me if this is too choppy, or makes too little sense. I was inspired by the song, On My Own, from Les Miserables. Thus the title. And so I wrote. It was also around ten o'clock at night, and I'd only gotten 5 hours of sleep the night before.

Reviews are quite welcome--I honestly don't get many.

Keep dreaming- it keeps us young,

`Talon McGreggor

(Tara)


	2. I Stand Alone

Okies, On My Own was originally a stand alone fic, but wow! It's not anymore. Here is the second chapter for all of you! Again, I refuse to give you much commentary before the story, and I do not own Harry Potter. `Talon

War, he knew, did many things to a man. He realizes that no man is immortal--we will all die. With that ultimately disturbing thought behind comes more. Fear creeps through him that he will never see his wife or children again. Closely following fear is regret: regret for all the things he has not done or accomplished. In the strong, fears and regrets will him to live. The weak buckle at the knees and say they cannot do this.

War was not new to Severus Snape. War was nothing! His life had been at risk simply under the service of the Death-Lord. 

_If I did die, I'd have deserved to,_ he thought in his journey through the halls. Yes, he'd taken part in so many horrible past-times, death would not be unwelcome. He'd condoned it. And death would stop all the memories. He would no longer be haunted. Suddenly he doubted the wisdom behind living one day more.

Most astoundingly, all the Hogwarts staff had survived. The Ministry folk, with the exception of the Aurors, were weak. Did they not practice magic everyday? The marked skills were amazing--teachers were killing two to four wizards a minute where it took the Minister of Magic nearly five [minutes] to kill one. Snape couldn't hold back a sneer.

It felt good to be in his own halls again. The cold dungeon walls welcomed him and he reveled in it. People deemed it odd that he welcomed the greeting and comfort of walls and stones, when he shied away from any human interaction. So be it. People were weird.

He found the smooth ebony door and deftly removed the wards. The scent of home overpowered his senses. 

"Lacarnum inflamarae." The ivory taper candles were lit. Snape peered around the antechamber. Everything was just how he'd left it. After releasing a breath he hadn't known he'd held, the allure of a chair became tempting and he let himself relax in it. Beside it on an end table he found an awaiting sifter and bottle of brandy. He poured himself a glass and swirled it artfully.

_War causes many changes in the innocent man. _He resumed his prior thoughts. _And when he comes home, he often accomplishes what he had not before. _Too bad for Snape, he was not that smart.

_Yes, Snape, old boy_ he chided sarcastically, _you will never learn. Every time you return there will never be a woman awaiting you._ His sneer was grand.

A muffled moan snapped him from his reveries. Snape did not even gasp-- too many years of training prevented that. He was alert now, and when the sound came again, this time more urgent, it lead him to his bedchamber. His steps were soft and silent. A cat wouldn't have known he'd entered the room.

"Severus!" His eyes went to his bed in an instant. Any fears of a horrid creature left his mind. If he wasn't mistaken this was a very female voice.

_How would you know? _he taunted, _when has ever a woman cried out your name?_ He silenced himself and approached the dark figure on his bed.

He could make out a great mass of long hair.

"Severus! No!" She groaned and her arms reached out to grab something. It became quite clear to the Potions Master this unwanted occupant was having a dream. And was she…was she concerned for him?

"Lumos." His wand lit up to reveal a writhing Hermione Granger on his bed.

On his bed.

In his room.

Crying out _his_ name.

_Never say never!_ But she was not waiting for him, this must be a cruel joke Potter and Weasley put her up to. Figures. Just like James…

On that note of anger, he put one hand on her shoulder and roughly pulled her form around to face him. Hermione's eyes flew open. It took a moment for her surroundings to register.

Why was she here--Oh! Oh!

"Oh! No! Ah- Sev--" her eyes instantly grew wide and fearful. "Profess--"

"Miss Granger!" If words could kill…

She let out a whimper and rolled off the bed. Her dart for the door proved dismally too late. His hand caught her shoulder again and whipped her around.

"Granger, WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY ROOMS?!" He could kill her…mangle her. A nosey Gryffindor in his personal, _private_ chambers!

"I- I- was- I mean." She was lost for words. Snape felt instant satisfaction that at least Ms. Know-It-All could not best him in his own chambers. The satisfaction was short lived, did not show, and remained nothing compared with his anger.

"I am waiting!" he bellowed.

Hermione wanted to sink into the ground and die. Why had she come here?

"I- I was lost." Finally, her voice!

"That is quite apparent. Did you think you could just lay down on any bed and have the occupant be content? Maybe with Potter or Weasley…"

A myriad of emotions ran through her at his words. How could he think her that stupid? Then…

"Professor!" she shouted, "That is disgusting! Ugh! How could you even?!?" Her face contorted with disgust.

"You never know with Gryffindors."

"It's your house that borders on incestual!" Snape could not exactly deny this. It was true. Everyone in Slytherin house was remotely related.

"May I remind you, Miss Granger, that you are in no position to hand out accusations!"

Hermione flushed from the roots of her hair to her toes.

Snape continued, "You have entered a professor's chambers without permission, must have broken into my classroom because there is no way you could get through the wards I keep on the main door, and I would wager you have been out past curfew." His voice was a snarl and she was sincerely fearful for her life.

"Y-y.." Her bottom lip trembled pitifully. She tried to control it. "Yes, sir." 

His glare went straight through her. Hermione's legs could not support her weight for the second time that night. She backed into the wall to keep from withering under his accusing eyes.

_What to do with her? _Severus asked himself. Detentions until she graduated would usually cover something of this severity, but surely then word would get out around the school of how she had acquired them. That would inevitably lead to very nasty rumors, all of which he wanted to avoid. Not that he cared one wit about his own feelings, but he was highly regarded in the wizarding world and did not wish to jeopardize that position. 

He realized that Miss Granger was still in his chambers. Knowing he would not be able to think of an apt punishment tonight, he did not want to keep here.

"Out!" 

Hermione found the exit faster than a disobedient house elf. She knew not to speak of this to anyone; she did not want rumors herself.

*`*`*

I hope you thought this second chapter up to par. A third will be coming very shortly! I've become more and more addicted to writing this!

Please read and review; I'll be most grateful. Plus it gives me a way to find out about more good authors. I really do usually read someone's work who reviews one of my fics. Not to bribe you or anything…it's simply the truth.

Happy tidings 'til next we meet!

`Talon McGreggor

(Tara)


	3. La Serenata

Yay! Chapter Three…I do not own Harry Potter, and I probably won't give much of an author's note before every chapter. At the end of this chp, however, I have a note. I hope you'll find this enjoyable--feel free to alert me of anything you find wrong with my writing. I honestly don't mind critiques. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews I've been getting! `Talon

She ran. Ran and cried. What had she been thinking? Why'd she gone there? How stupid! But she'd felt so lost. So empty. And in his rooms everything felt better. Horribly analytical thoughts coursed through her brain, but no! She refused to think about this logically. Not tonight.

She knew she would be ashamed of her actions. Eventually the shame would eat at her. Then she'd have to do something.

Oh she couldn't wait for the day she'd spill the story of Snape. Lord would he laugh at her! But deep inside was the knowledge that her pride wouldn't let her do anything eles.

What a beautiful predicament.

Hermione paused, breathless, at the fat-lady's portrait. Thank goodness she did not occupy it tonight. 

Although she'd been discovered in the worst situation, she did not feel troubled as she should. 

_It's because he is back._

"He is back," she spoke softly to no one. Seeing as she could not get back to the common room, (lately the picture's occupant had been having jaunts with a few, err, good men, and they didn't know how long she'd be out of her frame for a night) without anyone to receive the password, Hermione opted for a deserted classroom on the seventh floor. She found one just off the hallway to the right of her common room. The inside was chilly and the room itself sparse, but Hermione barely noticed.

She transfigured a desk into a cot, and a bunch of cobwebs into a large blanket. After a chair was a new goose-down pillow, she curled up on the bedding.

The room was not empty. 

The halls were no longer cold.

Her heart was not as heavy, knowing at least one teacher was back. She knew there'd be hell to pay for tonight, however she was aware Snape would never place her in mortal danger, and she could weather anything now she was whole again.

*`*`*

It was a damned good thing stones did not wear as easily as rugs. Snape paced from his door, through the antechamber, bedroom, library, to the bathroom where he turned, retraced his steps, and started all over again.

Hermione Granger had been asleep in his room, and he couldn't fathom why. One of his Slytherins, no matter how insecure without their head of house present, would _never_ risk even going to his office without permission. There was only one conclusion: she had taken leave of her senses. 

Still moving, he grimaced. The only student he taught with more than half her wits about her had gone daft. Just was he needed- a truly whole class of idiots. A hand went up to massage his temples. What a very interesting homecoming.

_Well, you finally had a woman awaiting you. You can die a complete man-- she even called your name._

With more difficulty than preferred, he silenced that damnable voice. He did not care if he ever had a woman who wanted him! He'd gotten along fine so far! Severus halted in his step. His hands, formerly relaxed behind his back, clenched tightly.

It was true, he didn't care if any woman wanted him. He wanted a specific woman to do that. War had finally begun to take its effect, and the gnarly Potions Master's views were changing. He'd returned from two wars and still had not tried to change his life. The average man would make the attempt to accomplish what he could not before the battle, but Severus did not learn that quickly. Luckily, he was handed the chance for a true life twice after each experience. The first he'd tainted with unrequited loyalties a misplaced sense of self-punishment. Now, however, he'd paid his dues. He'd done everything for their cause and the Order. 

Vague thoughts of romance nagged at his mind now and then. He never pictured himself a romantic and probably never would be. But the chance of a life strictly on his terms was too beautiful. And he didn't want to face it alone.

Everything in his life had been faced alone.

_Learn from mistakes. Break the pattern._

Snape shook his head. However catalytic this battle may have been, he did not believe it significant enough to convert to weak romanticism.

_You would not be weak. It is courageous to love. You risk the chance of getting hurt._

Love? Where had that word come from? He shook his head slowly, resuming his promenade. He was tired of being courageous. And tired of being hurt. What to do?

Finally he shrugged it all off. Maybe he'd get so bored during the remainder of the year, he would take a few risks. One never knew.

Physical exertion began to take its toll. His muscles ached and his eyelids were heavy. With a heavy breath he swiftly took to his heel found his bed. The four tall posts at each corner resembled strong sentinels guarding a haven. The black curtains framed this haven. 

_Haven._

Had that been what it was to Miss Granger? His brow furrowed. That was preposterous. Students did not find any security in his person. A crazy Gryffindor…

Still deep in the recesses of his mind, he sat on the bed, splaying his hands out behind him. A finger felt a defect in the velvet where the cloth did not flow smoothly. It looked as it a splash of water landed right smack down on his bedcover.

_Had she been crying?_

Did he care?

Not exactly…he found it interesting. This was all a puzzle waiting to be solved. What an excuse.

Another heavy breath made him breathe deeply--Severus Snape did not sigh. Perhaps the mystery of Miss Know-It-All-Granger would wait for a different night when fatigue did not plague him so.

He lay down atop his blankets, fully dressed, not bothering with clothes, curtains, or covers. His breathing slowly smoothed into the rhythmic pattern of sleep. Before passing out, he knew Hermione knew something he, again, did not. 

_Break the pattern…_

*`*`*

Wow, that was short. I tried to touch a lot more on Snape's thoughts. Hopefully they made sense. It is late at night again, but hey, when I wrote the first chapter it was late as well. Maybe it's a good omen.

Anyway, I'd like to answer a few questions/ respond to some comments that were in reviews. Don't worry, they're relevant to the story, and there won't be many. I hate these things myself and hardly ever read them.

Is Talon short for another name? You've signed your name twice with an apostrophe before the T. --SemiCHarmed 

~~No, it's not. I never recognized the the " ` " before my signature looked like an apostrophe. I put it there like how people would place the " ~" symbol before their names. It's for aesthetic value.

The only thing that I would like more of is Severus's feelings. Not just wondering about how he should punish Hermione, but his thoughts about coming home to find her there. How does he feel about her? Is part of him happy to find her there? Or does he completely dislike her? You kind of went from a lot of description of his thoughts to not really much at all. --Electryone

~~I tried to cover more on Sevvy here. And you bring up some very important questions. I'll keep those in mind as I write.

This is all I'll answer now. If you have any imminent questions, I'll contact you through e-mail. Thanks for reading through all of this!

Big 'huzzahs' 'til next we meet!

`Talon


	4. Envenomation

The only author's note I'll settle for is thanking each and everyone one of the people who have reviewed so far: Kedi, Watch Tale Neith, Aindel S. Druida, someone28, dama-de- tinieblas, KDarkMaiden, piper, Electryone, A Rose By Any Other Name, Romm, SemiCHarmed, RebelRikki, Green Sea Turtle, Voldie On Varsity Track, carmilla, Tracey Claybon, sweetevangeline, Seducing Severus, Winter Solstice1, Mariteri, Marston Chicklet, Walking Enigma, Lilith, and SenshiofTerrah. Thank you sooo much!!! This chapter is for you guys!

Hermione awoke slightly disoriented. Where--Why was she-- oh yes. She smiled vaguely. Professor Snape was back. Her smile changed to a grimace when she remembered the rest of the night. She put a hand to her head. It swam horribly.

How could she have let that happen? Ugh, too many questions. The sun appeared to drizzle through the window, filtered by the hordes of dust particles. Rising, she took her sleeve in hand and cleared a small portion to see through. It looked about…seven thirty. She should probably go down to breakfast. Transfiguring her robes to be fresh and clean, she changed her bedding into the original items and made her way to the hall.

Students milled about the halls socializing, still in denial that they must go to classes today. This proved it a bit difficult for her to escape the side corridor, but the minute she did, Harry and Ron swooped down on her.

"Hey, Hermione!" Ron draped an arm over her shoulder as a casual gesture.

"Where were you last night? We didn't see you come back to bed. We had to go to sleep before you got back." Harry inquisitive face forced itself into her view.

Hermione had learned to lie quickly. "I returned from the library much later than I'd planned." Suddenly her face turned apprehensive. "I almost got caught by Mrs. Norris."

Ron whistled. "Hermione, you need to start going to bed like a normal person."

"And your staying up talking about quidditch is normal?"

"To the teenage boy, yes."

"I study-- that's normal."

"Only for you…"

"Stop!" Harry stepped between his two best friends. He didn't want any wars until after he had food in his belly. "Argue after breakfast, okay?"

They gave in easily, both being famished.

The Great Hall buzzed with its usual chatter. An abnormal amount of open newspapers dotted the Ravenclaw table, the Hufflepuffs appeared the most calm, and Draco Malfoy was entertaining his entire house with some witty tale. Hermione figured if Draco Malfoy didn't come back for his seventh year, the whole Slytherin house would shut down 'til he returned. She slowly shook her head at the new level of pathetic some people could reach and took a seat at her own table.

"So why weren't you in the common room?"

"When?" Hermione asked Harry.

"This morning."

"I had to complete the bit of research I couldn't finish last night, so I woke early."

Ron scoffed. "What can possibly keep a person hauled up with books for that long?"

"I don't have to tell you everything, Ronald Weasley!" At Hermione's tone, Harry decided not to push the subject.

Mail delivery came and went with its usual vigor. Before the students could leave the hall, Dumbledore stood and cleared his throat. The Hall quieted immediately. The Headmaster smiled. How many Muggle teachers did he know of who wanted that kind of control over their students? But Dumbledore knew they obeyed out of respect.

"Students," his voice rang clear through the spacious room, "an exciting event has been planned to break the monotony of classes."

Excited whispers bounced around each table. A ball? A foreign exchange? Some of the more daring students guessed at an overnight survival trip in the Forbidden forest. Others thought this completely ludicrous.

Dumbledore raised a hand and whispers stopped. 

"I and I alone have planned a mystery game. Yes," he said to the looks of shock from the rest of the staff, "teachers will play too. Six items have been hidden throughout the castle. I will not tell you what they are. You will receive clues every week. You must put these clues together to discover the object and its location. Each item, much like the food in this Hall, is available in unlimited supply. However, everything is placed under an invisibility charm and can only be seen by the person who figures out what it is and where. Everyone will get a notebook."

At these words, small leather bound journals appeared in front each teachers and student. The owner's name and house was engraved on the front cover.

"You are to write clues, ideas, theories, extra notes, in these books. What you write can only be seen by the author when the book is open. Cheating," an imperceptible glance to the Slytherin table, "is futile. Clues will appear to you in these every week. In one week's time you will begin to work in pairs. The first pair to return to me all six items and notebooks with their steps to solving the puzzle will receive two hundred galleons to split between the two."

Gasps echoed throughout the hall.

"You are dismissed."

A mountain troll could not have stopped the whispers, shouts, and excited conversations. 

"Hermione, you have to be my partner!" Ron's face looked pained. Hermione was tempted to laugh.

"Ron, you know I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because that wouldn't be fair to Harry. Why don't you two work together and I'll find another partner." Their expressions mirrored those of lost men. "Come now, you've each got a head on your shoulders. I'm sure you can figure this out."

Ron shook has head sadly, saying, "Not in time to win the prize money. Hermione, I don't know if Dumbledore himself knows more than you about the rooms at Hogwarts."

She sighed, but could not hold back a smile. "Yes, but you two have the maurader's map-- a very useful tool."

"Yah!" Realization hit them in unison. Hermione left them in their enlightened states, needing to gather her books for her morning classes. Mm, wow, this will be nice…

_First class, Double Potions._

*`*`*

He could not believe Albus was making them play this stupid child's game. Snape let out a soft grunt. He didn't need the prize money-- he came from a rich pure blood family-- but the challenge was simply too much. His mind yearned and screamed to solve this puzzle.

_Granger's mind will be yearning too._

Snape gave that voice a sharp mental kick. That _would_ be the _last_ thought about Miss Granger today. He had classes to teach, one, his first, with her in it. Switching into teacher mode, not that he was ever out of it to the naked eye, he swiftly strode into his classroom.

Half the students were talking softly, the rest reading, studying, writing a note, or waiting patiently for class to begin. Snape rolled his eyes. Miss Granger was the only student waiting. She didn't smile; she really had nothing to smile about. But her hands were folded neatly on top of the desk and her face was passive, her expression one of controlled concentration. Damnation to the Gryffindors.

The professor clicked his heels smartly together, much like the SS or Gestapo, bringing silence to the room.

"Healing potions prove challenging because the smallest mistake can produce the most toxic results. That is why only the potions from select students will be tested at the end. You will be testing them on members of your House." As much as he would like to see Potter or Weasley choke, he did not want a student's death on his hands. The paperwork and politics in the aftermath would be too much for one man to handle.

"You will brew one vial of arrête necronim. What does this do?"

One hand took to the air, then a few timid followers.

"Mr. Finnigan."

"Clots the blood?"

"No. Miss Parkinson."

"Stops tooth decay," she declared proudly.

"Wrong. Mr. Malfoy."

Draco stumbled for an answer for a second. Then, "Stops cancerous growths."

His house was composed of imbeciles. "No. Miss Granger."

"Arrête necronim stops necrosis of the skin. This necrosis can result from a bite from a brown recluse spider, or various species of cobra."

"Correct," he sneered. "Begin now and you will be finished when your time is up."

For three hours (each of their periods lasted an hour and a half) the students labored over their cauldrons. Snape monitored their progress from his desk. Longbottom would fail. Weasley had just added an ingredient too late, and though Potter was doing it right so far, he knew the boy would screw up. He would test Malfoy's…and Parkinson's. He didn't think anyone would go to the hospital wing for that. Perhaps he would use Thomas' and Patil's. He would not, however, give Miss Granger the satisfaction of success. He could not stand for her ego to get out of hand.

Dean Thomas added the entirely wrong ingredient. Snape would use Finnigan's instead. At least he was half positive there would be no deaths.

Test subjects? Goyle, Bullstrode, Weasley, and Granger.

*`*`*

"Time. Who is done?" Most of the hands in class went up. It didn't matter much-- he knew whose he would test, and they were completed. "I want the potions of Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Finnigan, Miss Parkinson and Miss Patil."

Obediently the students walked their vials to his desk.

"Figures!" Hermione hissed.

Professor Snape flashed her a deadly glare signaling he could hear her. She had the decency to flush, but would not break her defiant stare back.

Potions collected, Snape resumed instructions, "Test subjects are Mr. Goyle, Mr. Weasley, Miss Bullstrode, and Miss Granger. Come to the front."

Ron's face visibly blanched. The Slytherins looked only slightly hesitant, knowing their Head of House wouldn't hurt them purposely. Ron nearly had to be kicked by Hermione to get going as she strode confidently down the aisle. Although she was quite sure she would end up in the hospital wing for the remainder of the day, she'd be damned if she let Snape know that.

"To test these potions, we must first begin necrosis." The four students froze at these words. "If your potion does not work, there is a fresh supply at hand. Would anyone care chance a guess at how we will initiate necrosis?"

Hermione's hand went to the air half-heartedly. Snape looked her way, his signal to speak.

"Injections of cobra venom?" Her voice was barely audible to the rest of the room.

"Yes. Monacle cobra venom."

Potions class had become dangerous. Snape opened a top desk drawer and removed four syringes filled with clear liquid. With all the acquired skill and grace of a doctor, he readied the injections. He directed each student to roll up their sleeve. A flick of his wand sterilized the skin, and his long fingers administered the envenomation. In less than a minute they collapsed on the floor under the influence of the neurotoxins. Snape took from his pocket bottles of antivenom and administered approximately a dozen bottles per student. Hermione had never felt like this in her life. She hoped she never would again. When each test subject had normal vitals, which actually took quite a while, but thanks to magical advances, the process was quickened, they were able to begin testing the potions.

He passed one vial to each subject. Hermione noted she received Seamus`. 

"Uncork them." Little 'pops' followed. "Drink."

She brought the bottle to her lips and let the liquid slide down her throat without tasting a drop. Thanks to her many nights in the hospital wing, she'd perfected the art of potion drinking. It hit her stomach like a brick. Her head ached as if she'd been hit by a train. Looking to the black spot on her left arm where the venom had been injected, she saw it slowly recede and fade away.

"Necrosis should be gone within two minutes."

Hermione looked at the clock. Three minutes and counting…The mark was not gone and now she was retching her breakfast on to the floor. Snape scowled at the stench. 

"Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Thomas, take the sick to the hospital wing." The two boys led Hermione, Goyle, and Ron to see Madame Pomfrey. Millicent smiled. Draco's potion had worked beautifully.

*`*`*

I hope this is longer than the previous chapters. Did I catch anyone by surprise? No one expecting something like THIS to happen? ::smiles:: I had quite a lot of fun giving the characters injections. If it were me up there, I would have been crying through the whole ordeal. . Even in front of Snape…Anyway, please review. 

`Talon


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